


Remember the Goodbye

by in_motu_proprio



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, Femme, Femslash, Grief, Masturbation, Nyssa/Laurel, Pining, Rough Sex, Squirting, Substitution, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Nyssa and Laurel are grief struck after Sara's death.  Nyssa doesn't want to go home, so she stays with Laurel in Starling City and begins to train her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Every inch of Laurel’s body hurt. Nyssa was vicious when they sparred and didn’t let Laurel get an inch unless she actually earned it. Which, by the way, was very, very rare. It was both infuriating and strangely satisfying. Every bit of furniture had been removed from Laurel’s living room except for a couch on one wall and a series of hooks and hangers on the other. It was the biggest room in the apartment, so it’d been repurposed for training. They could have gone to a gym, but Nyssa was pretty secretive for good reason. Sometimes they went out into the city, but mostly they stayed was at her place. 

Right now, though, her mind was not on sparring. Right now Laurel’s tub was filling with hot water mixing with the generous dose of epsom salts and bergamot oil. She stripped down and slid in, groaning as the hot water wrapped around her aching muscles. “Ow….” She settled in on a bruised ass cheek, shifting around until she managed a position that didn’t hurt. The heat sunk into her and Laurel laid a cool washcloth over her eyes. It darkened out the little light that was in the room. 

Laurel had lit a few tea lights around the bathroom, just needing to dial her mind down after a really rough week. The wind rustled through the tree outside and Laurel felt herself start to sink deeper into the tub. She was sweating and had to refresh her cool rag several times in the pool of cold water she had in a bowl on the floor next to the bathtub. She sighed as the cool drips met her warm neck as the first drops of rain hit the glass pane of her window. Thoughts of training started to flit through Laurel’s mind. At first she focused on movements, on combinations Nyssa had taught her, or the way Nyssa said she ought to hold her blade. 

It wasn’t as though it was the first time she’d noticed her sister’s lover was beautiful, but now that they were spending hours a day together training and Nyssa was living in her spare room, Laurel was starting to see the rest of Nyssa. She was darkly funny with a tongue that could cut you to shreds over a misstep and a strong hand to help you up when she knocked you on your ass. She was a brutal and very, very effective teacher. Laurel might go to bed bruised and battered every night, but every morning she woke with purpose. 

She’d been thinking about her teacher quite often lately and in terms that weren’t just that of a student for a master. Nyssa sometimes looked at Laurel how Laurel imagined she’d looked at Sarah. They hadn’t been identical by any means, but they were close enough it seemed, or shared enough mannerisms to compel Nyssa to touch her shoulder a little sometimes and let her fingers linger there, stroke just a little. Laurel used the touch to her shoulder as the starting point. That was what she usually did. 

Her body relaxed as she thought about the way the callouses on Nyssa’s fingers had felt on the skin of her shoulder. She could hear them catch on her tank top she wore to spar, tugging the fabric aside just a little. Nyssa’s breath would be warm on Laruel’s neck as she moved closer, pressing her delicate nose to Laurel’s throat. She could feel the warm air rustling the hair at the nape of her neck. Having had Nyssa pressed that closely to her in training let Laurel lend her sexual fantasies more substance. 

For instance, Laurel knew what Nyssa’s nipples felt like when they were hard through the layers of fabric at her chest. Laurel could feel the way they caught on her arm as Nyssa moved behind her. It gave Laurel the right angle so that her own hands could become Nyssa’s. Laurel felt the ends of Nyssa’s hair brush her shoulder as her hand slid between Laurel’s breasts. Nyssa never said much in Laurel’s mind, very much like the Nyssa in real life. 

The woman in her mind moved her hands down Laurel’s body, stroking her thighs then over to her hips, her breasts. Laurel warmed her body up with Nyssa’s touches, her mind vivid in its detail of Nyssa’s just long enough fingernails scraping over her skin and down to her folds. Laurel paused, picking up the washcloth over her eyes, jumping a mile when she opened her eyes to find Nyssa standing in the doorway. Laurel blinked a few times, frozen with the rag in her hand. 

“Please, continue.” Laurel moved into high gear, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. “You needn’t stop on my account.” 

“Nyssa, I thought you’d gone out for the evening.” 

“I had. I returned.” Typical Nyssa. And there she stood, shoulder pressed in the doorframe just looking at her. Nyssa’s gaze made Laurel’s skin heat to volcanic temperatures. Laurel looked away, hearing Nyssa move closer. Out of the corner of her eye, Laurel watched Nyssa perch on the edge of the tub. Her fingertips sent ripples through the surface of the water over Laurel’s thigh and she looked over. Nyssa’s dark eyes were on fire, every bit of her body focused on Laurel. “Continue.” 

From the first time Laurel met Nyssa, she felt her a real mesmerizing pull from her gaze. Right now was no exception as Nyssa’s words and gaze had Laurel’s hand grazing her own thigh. Laurel’s fingertips ran over her folds, holding Nyssa’s full attention. Laurel hadn’t had feelings for a woman in her life, but Nyssa changed that. She could understand what it was about Nyssa that Sarah had fallen in love with. Nyssa wasn’t an easy woman to like, but God was it easy to love her. 

Maybe it was because of the closeness that being near Nyssa made Laurel feel with Sarah, or maybe it was because Nyssa really was a unique and beautiful woman. Laurel didn’t know what, exactly, it was about her, but Laurel felt compelled to be close to Nyssa. 

The water had cooled a bit, but it still felt hot against her as she pushed her folds apart and rubbed the tip of her middle finger over her clit. Nyssa’s hand moved to Laurel’s head, The way Nyssa stroked her hair made Laurel’s lips part for a tiny sigh. Nyssa stroked her hair, over her throat and arms, but she never got lower, never touched below the surface of the water as Laurel’s fingers sped. She let out small puffs of air as she neared her end, shuddering and jerking as her body tried to crest but pulled back. 

“Let go,” Nyssa breathed in her ear, and Laurel did, gasping and arching her hips up into her own hand. Nyssa’s fingers twined in her hair, pulling it gently and sending shocks of arousal through Laurel. Nyssa didn’t stop until Laurel was worn out, and only then she relaxed her grip and went to stroke through her hair once more. Laurel’s mind cleared a little, but she didn’t know what to say. Nyssa’s hand pulled back and by the time Laurel opened her eyes, the woman was gone, door left open. 

Laurel came out in a towel to find a cup of tea sitting, steaming on the kitchen table. Nyssa was nowhere to be found, but she’d left the tea. She’d left Laurel proof when she hadn’t had to. While Laurel didn’t think she’d be able to talk about it, or maybe even do anything else about it, but she’d have the cup of tea and the rain and Nyssa’s fingers twisted in her hair. For now that was plenty.


	2. Chapter 2

Nyssa sat silently in the middle of the floor. Nyssa was silent a lot. Laurel watched her from where she was sitting on the couch. They both had tea, and both cups had long since gone cold. A song came over the radio, American Girl by Tom Petty. Laurel could remember bouncing around with Sarah, singing the song into hairbrushes. Nyssa hadn’t told Laurel what the memory was, but hadn’t looked at her since requesting that Laurel change the station. Their tea cooled and the radio had been turned off so all there was was the buzz from the fridge in the next room and their breathing. 

“Ta-er-al-Sahfer …” She began, and then it was as though it was too painful to speak directly about Sara, so she changed her approach. "Growing up on Nanda Parbat I didn’t hear a lot of popular music.” Laurel didn’t dare say anything, just nodded her head a little bit. “She tuned one of my father’s radios, just played with it for awhile until that song began to play. I think it was the first music she’d heard since she came to us.” Laurel could hear the thickness in Nyssa’s voice and struggled to stay still. She really wanted to go hug the woman, but if she moved Nyssa would stop speaking. 

“She danced. In that moment, she closed her eyes and started to dance. Nothing mattered, she just let the song carry her.” Nyssa didn’t move to wipe the tear from her cheek as she spoke, clearly just needing to share something of her lost love. Sometimes Laurel was jealous of how close the two of them had been, of how much time Nyssa had with Sara that Laurel hadn’t. “She looked so free.” Laurel’s heart clenched and twisted thinking of a younger Sara there on Nanda Parbat so captive but still free. That was Sara in a nutshell, though, wasn’t it? 

“We used to dance to it when we were kids,” Laurel said after some time had passed, pretty sure that Nyssa had said what she needed to. “She loved Tom Petty, Elvis Costello, Janet Jackson….” Nyssa searched Laurel’s face, clearly not knowing the artists. “And no matter what the song was, she danced. That was just Sara.” Nyssa’s tears fell faster and Laurel took a chance and approached her. Nyssa wouldn’t accept anything more than a hand to hold, but Laurel sat there with her in silence, feeling like her own grief, a sister’s grief, paled in comparison to the hell Nyssa seemed to be in. 

“I’m glad she had you.” Her voice was soft, and Nyssa looked up at Laurel, a question in her eyes. “I can’t imagine how scared she must have been, how hard it must have been for her.” Laurel squeezed Nyssa’s hand in both of hers. “But she had you.”

“And she left me.” Nyssa’s voice was hard, full of pain. “Twice.” 

Laurel felt Nyssa pull her hand back and didn’t let her. “She loved you. She loved you more than I’ve ever seen her love anyone.” 

“She left us both, hurt us both.” Nyssa turned her hand over in Laurel’s and Laurel was pretty sure she could feel Nyssa’s gaze gently stroking the inside of her forearm and then up over her bicep. “I see her in you.” Laurel felt the crackle of arousal running through her and she was certain she could see it in Nyssa’s gaze too. Nyssa’s fingers skated down Laurel’s jaw, making Laurel tremble. No sooner had Nyssa touched her than she was gone, disappearing the second Laurel’s eyes closed. 

Laurel thought about the fact that she ought to feel guilty. She didn’t. It was weird, but it seemed pretty natural actually. That didn’t mean anything was going to happen, but it helped her get through the rest of the night wondering where Nyssa had gone. The next morning a steaming hot cup of tea sat on her bedside table when she woke, a sign that Nyssa had been there and that she was well. Laurel made sure to finish her tea before getting out of bed, wanting nothing more than to welcome and enjoy the gesture.


	3. Chapter 3

It took Laurel a moment to realize that the screaming that had woken her up was her own. Nyssa was there, perched on the edge of her bed, pulling Laurel up by the arms. “Laurel… wake up. Laurel…” Nyssa’s fingers gently tapped her cheek, trying to call Laurel back into the land of the waking. “That’s it…” Nyssa brought a glass of water to her lips. “Drink a little. Sit up.” Laurel did as she was told, pulling her blanket up around her defensively, shivering. “Oh, dear girl.” Nyssa let Laurel hold the water and slipped in beside her in bed. 

Nyssa’s warmth next to Laurel helped immediately and after she sipped a bit more water, Laurel set the water aside in favor of letting Nyssa wrap her arms around Laurel. “I will listen if you’d like to tell me what’s troubling you.” Laurel’s eyes drifted shut as Nyssa stroked her hair, something that was meant as totally platonic she was sure, but felt more than that to Laurel. It took Laurel a little while to get her thoughts organized, but she did once she stopped shuddering. 

“I was on the Queen’s Gambit, the boat that Sara was …” Nyssa nodded because she was clearly familiar. “It was sinking. I’ve had the dream for years,” Laurel told Nyssa as her body started to shudder again. Nyssa held her closer, tucking the blankets in all around them after laying down. Laurel could have said something or argued, but it felt good and Laurel felt like shit more often than not the past few weeks. “It’s always so cold.” 

Nyssa’s lips pressed to her temple and for some reason that unleashed something in Laurel. She started to cry, hard. There were nights like this where all she could do was cry and God what she’d give for a drink right now. The thought of going to a meeting ran through her head, but that meant she’d have to move away from Nyssa who was stroking her back and humming softly. Sara told Laurel how Nyssa cared for her, how she nursed her back to health after the crash. Laurel hadn’t known this caring side of Nyssa al Ghul before, but now she saw it. Now she understood why Sara had called Nyssa tender. 

“What’s that tune?” Laurel looked up at Nyssa through clumped, wet lashes, knowing she had to look a fright. 

“It doesn’t have a name.” Nyssa looked down at Laurel, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “You look as though you’re feeling a bit more of this world.” Nyssa went to move and Laurel stopped her. 

“Don’t go.” She surprised herself, eyes going wide. Laurel didn’t know how she meant it, just that she did mean it. The thought of Nyssa getting out of her bed right now was unthinkable. 

“… rest. I’ll guard your sleep.” Nyssa’s lips pressed to the crown of Laurel’s head as Nyssa’s hand moved to stroke her hair. Laurel closed her eyes as Nyssa’s lips lingered at her hairline, feeling her pulse speed. It took her a moment, but Laurel turned her face up, trying so hard to be brave. Sara was brave, Sara had loved this deadly woman and Laurel was frightened that maybe she did too. 

All it took was one look at the agony on Nyssa’s face and Laurel knew that right now was not the right moment to kiss her. Maybe she was even a little relieved that she didn’t have to say or do anything. It would be strange anyway. Nyssa looked down at Laurel, meeting her eyes. Laurel knew the second it registered with Nyssa from the little hitch in her breath. To her credit, Nyssa didn’t move away. Nor did she touch Laurel any differently. Nyssa was as good as her word, laying with Laurel until she woke the next morning, guarding her slumber like the warrior she was as Nyssa herself tried to avoid the land mines of grief.


	4. Chapter 4

“Can I ask you a question?” Laurel and Nyssa were sharing dinner in the kitchen, something they were trying to do as often as Laurel’s schedule would allow it. Laurel couldn’t cook, so it was always Nyssa cooking for them. Laurel did all the cleaning, though, not wanting to be a total pain. 

“Certainly.” Nyssa finished off a bite of her rare steak, chewing delicately but clearly enjoying the glass of red wine she was having to accompany it. Laurel didn’t begrudge her the drink, but it smelled so good. 

“How did it happen? With Sara, I mean. As far as I knew she was straight when she left with my boyfriend on her little three hour cruise.” Laurel sipped her mineral water with some level of disdain. After all these years, that still hurt more than anything. “I didn’t know Sara liked girls.” 

Nyssa didn’t seem to have any issue with the line of questioning, swallowing before she answered. “Sara had only ever been with women in order to please men. Oliver was apparently a big part of that. When she came to me, though…” Nyssa’s face lit up a little bit, “… she saw it could be more than that. It was her who kissed me,” Nyssa shared with a pleased little smile. 

“Now that sounds like Sara.” Nyssa seemed only too happy to talk right now, the memory of Sara burning bright for her in a good way, apparently. “How did that happen?”

“I’d hurt my shoulder fighting her the day before and I couldn’t brush my hair. She offered to help.” Nyssa sipped her wine, lips wet as she spoke again. “She knelt behind me, brushing with such care. She kept touching it… you know when someone stroking your hair can make your entire body shudder?” Laurel did indeed and nodded. “It was like that every time she touched me.” Nyssa’s face turned a little sad and Laurel hoped she hadn’t just walked the woman into pain. 

“She braided my hair, pulled it back and ran her fingers along my neck.” Nyssa pulled herself back from wherever her mind had been, clearly seeing Laurel again. “When she had it queued back, she moved in. I could have stopped her.” Laurel’s heart was pounding, the love story making her hurt for them both. “She laid her lips here,” Nyssa’s fingertips touched her clavicle. “She was slow at first, but once I touched her…” Nyssa’s lips curled up a little, and her cheeks pinked. “I loved her deeply.” 

Nyssa finished her glass of wine, leaving half the bottle behind when she excused herself. Laurel contemplated it for a long time, just sitting at the table staring at the bottle. Eventually she couldn’t take it and got up, the bottle in hand with every intention to return it to Nyssa and ask her to either finish it or get rid of it. She stopped outside the guest room, now Nyssa’s room as it had been well over a month that she’d been here now. There were soft sounds coming from inside, the gentle shift of the bed, the soft sigh escaping Nyssa’s lips. 

It all solidified for Laurel at once and she nearly dropped the bottle. Instead, she set it down outside Nyssa’s door and headed back out. She grabbed her keys and hit the door, heading for a meeting because she was going to be damned to hell and back before she’d screw up her sobriety again. Laurel was struggling and she needed help, she needed to _not_ be turned on by her dead sister’s lover masturbating to her memory. Laurel hurried out the door to the meeting a few blocks from her house, not caring if she even listened, just needing to not be here right now.


	5. Chapter 5

In the coming days, Laurel found herself obsessed with Sara and Nyssa’s story. She wondered if it was normal, needing to know how long your sister had been with her lover or how their relationship went with over with Nyssa’s father. Laurel tried to get as much information out of Nyssa about Sara’s life on Nanda Parbat as she could. She needed to flesh out the Canary parts of Sara’s life. 

Today she and Nyssa were heading out to spar in the city, maybe do a little cleaning down in the Glades, but mostly just to train. Something Laurel noticed about Nyssa was that Nyssa was not shy about her body when they were at home. Laurel had seen a lot of her new roommate in the two months since she’d come to live with Laurel. Right now, as Laurel passed Nyssa’s spartan room, she was treated to a full view of Nyssa’s torso in profile. She could see the pink-brown tip of one nipple then the slope of her breast leading in to hide under her tricep. 

“The scar is from a trident.” Laurel took a moment, realizing that Nyssa thought she was staring at the scars on her side and not her nipple. 

“A trident?” 

“Nanda Parbat needed access to the sea,” Nyssa said, brows raising. Tridents brought up images of Posiden and Laurel could almost see it. Nyssa was larger than life, too. Nyssa turned to show Laurel the last scar that sat just over her hip where her pants were slung low. 

“And that one?” Laurel couldn’t stop looking at the scars that littered Nyssa’s body. They were a roadmap of her life, Laurel supposed. 

“This?” Laurel stepped closer, shaking her head and extending her hand. In a moment she made the decision to touch Nyssa’s bare skin, running her fingers over a crescent shaped scar just under her ribcage. 

“Blade.” Nyssa reached down, bringing her fingers to touch the back of Laurel’s hand. Her pulse jumped as she let Nyssa lead her through her scars. “Fire.” Nyssa guided her fingers over a patch of too thick skin that felt numb even to Laurel’s fingers. “Arrow.” Her fingers ran over a scar on Nyssa’s arm, and as Nyssa outlined several stab wounds to her shoulder, Laurel told herself she needed to step back. 

Nyssa’s bare breast brushed Laurel’s arm and she bit her lip hard, looking away. _Not good. This was not good._ “You remind me so much of her sometimes.” The words were like knives jamming into her gut and Laurel went to step away. “Please… don’t.” Nyssa’s voice trembled as she pulled Laurel’s hand to lay flat on her stomach. “I miss you so much.” Laurel could hear it in Nyssa’s tone, the way she needed Sara there in that moment more than she needed air. 

Nyssa was struggling. She was barely keeping her head above the tides of grief, that much was clear, but Laurel didn’t know if this was the answer either. “Tell me more,” Laurel whispered to Nyssa as the woman tried so hard to hold herself together. 

“He thinks you made me weak, but you are my strength, Ta-er-al-Sahfer.” For awhile after that, Nyssa spoke in a language Laurel didn’t recognize. She could tell, though, from the way Nyssa’s voice wrapped around the words, that they were filled with regret. Laurel kept her head down just a little bit, her fingers stroking over one of the scars Nyssa said had come from an arrow. The woman shuddered and Laurel almost cried for her. 

“Please, Sara.” Nyssa ran her fingers over Laurel’s back, pulling her close. “Please.” The first please might have been for Sara, but the second was to Laurel. 

She knew that a decision had to be made and it only took her a moment. Nyssa’s eyes were closed, and that made it easier for Laurel to lean in and brush her lips over the woman’s cheeks, kissing away the tears that littered her soft skin. Nyssa whispered Sara’s name again and Laurel silenced her with a slow kiss. 

They fit together well, Nyssa’s arms wrapping around Laurel the moment she’d kissed her. Nyssa’s hair tickled Laurel’s bare arm and sent a shudder up her spine. Or that could have been the possessive way Nyssa’s hand grasped Laurel’s shirt and pulled her close, crushing them together in a kiss with an equal amount of possession. Laurel came out the other side of that kiss breathless and shocked. It had come to a natural end, the two women forehead to forehead, pressing tiny kisses to each other’s lips before Nyssa pulled away to finish dressing. 

Laurel didn’t understand and approached her, Nyssa putting one hand up and shaking her head. “I’m going out alone tonight.” Nyssa might as well have punched her in the gut, and Laurel didn’t even have time to argue as Nyssa pulled on a shirt, grabbed a few knives, and headed for the door. She felt betrayed and aroused, horrified with herself and yet proud for taking a chance. But had she shamed her sister’s memory? Surely this was some sort of sin, too. Laurel let Nyssa go out into the night alone, knowing the woman had more than a few demons to work through. That left Laurel to walk three blocks and sit through two meetings just so she didn’t have to be alone with her thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

For three days after that, Laurel didn’t see Nyssa. The only way she’d known Nyssa was still there was the single cup of steaming tea left on her nightstand every morning. Laurel had even gone as far as to lock her door one night just to see, but like clockwork the next morning, there was tea. 

On the fourth day, Laurel came out with her cup of tea to find Nyssa sitting on the floor in the living room meditating. She had no doubt Nyssa knew she was there, but Laurel said nothing, just went through to the kitchen to open the window and start breakfast. Today that consisted of a big bowl of greek yogurt, berries, granola on top with a piece of peanut butter toast. Laurel went outside onto her deck to enjoy the early morning sun. 

When she returned, Nyssa was exactly where she’d sat before, just turned the other way and looking at Laurel as she came in. “Morning.” 

“I know you’re not her.” 

Alright, Laurel thought, that was to the point. “I know.” 

Nyssa nodded and stood, slowly stretching her arms over her head. “Being near you helps the ache.” Laurel nodded, watching Nyssa bend at the waist and grab the backs of her knees. She didn’t let their conversation disrupt the flow of her workout, just allowed it to guide the speed. “Sometimes it helps.” 

“… and other times?” Nyssa paused and looked at Laurel, a glimpse into the pain she was feeling on display in Nyssa’s eyes the second before she blinked. 

Nyssa put her back to Laurel again and started to work through a slow flow of movement, fights at a quarter the speed, just a slow, mindful movement of the muscles. “Join.” Laurel went back and changed into her yoga pants and tank before coming out to join Nyssa as she’d requested. 

They stood in mirror poses, Nyssa leading them, always a little ahead. Their hands never touched, but they worked either side of the slow fight with all the force just pulled at the last second. Laurel thought she almost felt Nyssa’s energy flowing from her palms. Nyssa knew she wasn’t Sara, but Laurel could see the way Nyssa sometimes kept her eyes just out of focus. Was that enough to fool herself? “Blades or melee?” 

Laurel considered it for awhile, just stretching and moving her limbs as they took a little break. “We need more room for blades,” Laurel pointed out. Nyssa disagreed, but then Nyssa had a lot more practice.

“Melee it is.” Nyssa had barely finished the sentence before Laurel was on her back on the floor. 

“How the hell did you do that?” Nyssa had been halfway across the room, but here Laurel was getting her ass handed to her yet again. 

“Daughter of the Demon,” Nyssa said as she reached down to lend Laurel a hand. “Shall I put one hand behind my back?” 

“You could put two and you’d still beat me.” Nyssa nodded, not immodest at all. It was the truth. “Why do you do this?” 

Nyssa patted her arm. “You know why.” Laurel’s teacher stepped back and struck a defensive pose, giving Laurel a chance to come at her. That was always dangerous. She would see a gap then Nyssa would move just a little, let her know that wasn’t the way to go. Nyssa was always a step ahead, making Laurel fight just to stay anywhere near the same page. Eventually she made a wild grab and Nyssa flipped her over her back onto her feet. 

“You make it look easy.” 

“You have seen my scars. You know none of this was easily won.” Nyssa caught Laurel at the knees and brought her down. Laurel was barely able to roll away, catching Nyssa’s foot accidentally with her leg and ending up bringing the other woman down with an oof. 

“Oh my God, does that count? That has to count!” Laurel rolled over and pinned Nyssa, straddling her chest and using her knees to pin down her arms. “Don’t do any weird lower body stuff. Just let me have this. Please.” Laurel laughed a little, hoping Nyssa would take pity on her. Instead of fighting, though, Nyssa had turned her head away. “Oh come on, it was an accident. It wasn’t like I actually got you on the floor.” 

Nyssa caught Laurel’s eyes, lips pressed together tightly. Laurel wasn’t moving, but neither was Nyssa. It was well within her abilities to knock Laurel off, but she wasn’t. Instead she just freed one hand and ran it over the bun Laurel had put her hair in. Laurel moved back a little, letting Nyssa have her other arm but not getting up. Nyssa pushed her back and sat up, both hands going to Laurel’s hair to let it down, running through it slowly to part the strands. “You smell like her when you sweat.” Nyssa’s nose ran over Laurel’s throat again, then down to the line of her tank, running along the scoop over her breasts. 

Laurel flushed bright red, hands going tight at her sides. This needed to stop. It wasn’t doing either of them any good. Laurel didn’t want to be wanted for her likeness to her sister, but she also didn’t have the heart to push Nyssa away when she licked a bead of sweat from the curve of her breast. “Nyssa, we shouldn’t.” It was a weak protest, and Nyssa didn’t seem to pay it any mind as she pressed her nose to Laurel’s throat once again. “Nyssa, I’m not her.” 

Laurel’s hands were grabbed in one of Nyssa’s, bringing her wrists together close, crushing them against one another as Nyssa slammed Laurel into the ground. It knocked the breath out of Laurel and, frankly, scared her a little bit. “I told you I know you’re not her.” The look in Nyssa’s eyes was wild grief, but also of a woman trying to convince herself of a truth that wasn’t real. Laurel understood the other woman and nodded. Nyssa knew. She just didn’t care. Not right now. Nyssa couldn’t care without going entirely out of her mind with years of regret. 

She gently broke away from Nyssa’s grasp, watching the woman move off of her to sit a few feet away with a blank look on her face. This was bad. Laurel thought about touching her, about approaching Nyssa in some way but instead she slipped from the room. She grabbed her gym bag complete with clean work clothes, and headed out, leaving Nyssa sitting on the floor with that same blank look on her face.


	7. Chapter 7

When Laurel came back to the apartment, Nyssa had gone about her day it seemed. Dinner was ready and waiting, but Nyssa was nowhere to be found. Laurel feared she might have finally done it, but then there was dinner, wasn’t there? Laurel ate alone and then watched some TV alone in her bedroom. She fell asleep, waking hours later in the pitch dark of the night to a strange sound. She slipped out of bed and quietly padded down the hall. Nyssa’s door was partially open and it was clear the noise was coming from in there. 

Laurel peeked, finding Nyssa tangled up in her blankets, thrashing like she was trapped. “Nyssa,” Laurel said softly from the doorway. Still Nyssa struggled. Laurel moved closer and closer until she reached out to touch Nyssa. Her dreams were keeping the woman twisted and making terrified, pathetic noises. “Nyssa.” 

She woke with a start, grabbing out and catching Laurel’s shoulder. She pulled Laurel to her, squeezing tightly. “I dreamt you’d died.” Laurel nearly opened her mouth, but decided at the last minute to just let Nyssa say whatever she wanted to. “That instead of finding you alive, you were dead on the beach.” Laurel’s heart clenched. “And in the warehouse, and on the roof. You keep dying.” It was dark in Nyssa’s room and the woman reached up to stroke through Laurel’s hair, clearly still in some half-sleeping place. 

Laurel had to make a decision pretty quick. Would she play along, let the cover of dark and Nyssa’s pain be her denison down the dark path? Or did she have the heart to tell Nyssa Sara was dead, that she’d really died this time? Focusing on Nyssa’s grief helped Laurel with her own, but in moments like this, Laurel seriously questioned her ability to reason and make good decisions for herself. She didn’t chance bringing Nyssa’s fantasies to a burning end by speaking, so she just reached up to stroke her hair. Nyssa sighed and almost melted against Laurel. 

Nyssa purred against Laurel’s shoulder, moving closer. “You are my tenderness, my darling. You are the heart in my chest.” Nyssa’s hands moved as she leaned up to kiss Laurel. Nyssa sparked something low in her belly, Laurel not fighting one moment. She deserved to feel good, didn’t she? Touching Nyssa made her feel close to Sara and that made her feel good. That wasn’t bad. Right? 

“My world begins and ends with you, Ta-er-al-Sahfer.” Nyssa whispered it against Laurel’s lips, making her long for someone who would love her the way Nyssa clearly loved Sara. She’d gone quiet and Laurel realized Nyssa was waiting for a response, so Laurel leaned in, running her fingers over Nyssa’s cheek before she kissed the other woman. Nyssa fell into her, pulling Laurel onto the bed. Nyssa’s thigh pushed between hers and she pulled Laurel up into a hard kiss before she stared moving. 

Laurel bit her own lip hard to keep from moaning at the sensation of Nyssa pressed to her through just the thin fabric of her nightgown. Nyssa slept in the nude, so all that kept them from each other was the cotton covering Laurel. The strong thigh between her legs flexed and shifted until Laurel was certain Nyssa felt how wet she was. “I want your skin,” was all Nyssa said as she pulled Laurel’s nightgown off and tossed it on the floor. 

Nyssa’s fingers stroked down Laurel’s bare back to the cotton of her underpants. She let out a gasp as Nyssa ripped them off of her, dropping the shreds on the carpet. “Nyssa.” Laurel had moaned it low, then froze when she realized she’d spoken. Preparing for the words, Laurel began to pull away slowly honestly not knowing if she was about to be killed. 

“I know you’re not her.” Laurel was shocked to hear the words, but what came next was what really sealed the deal for her. “One night,” Nyssa whispered against Laurel’s shoulder, the desperation clear through the tremble in Nyssa’s words. Her voice had this sad, almost resigned feel to it, but she still asked. Nyssa wanted one last night with Sara, to be able to convince herself that maybe it would be alright. Laurel felt tears prick her eyes, so instead of speaking, she just nodded. 

Nyssa’s posture relaxed a little bit and she kissed Laurel long and slow, bringing her up onto Nyssa’s thigh, showing her what the general idea was. Laurel wasn’t stupid, but it wasn’t like she had any experience with girls. Nyssa was something wholly new for Laurel, new and amazing. When Nyssa helped her find her rhythm, Laurel took it. She didn’t stifle herself anymore, just softly breathed out moans as Nyssa’s fingers slid between her folds and exposed her clit. She didn’t stroke, just pressed in tight and let Laurel’s movements do all the work. The part Nyssa was working on was Laurel’s mouth. 

She kissed Laurel like she was oxygen, like Nyssa was going to die without what Laurel was providing her right now. And maybe that actually was true. How long had it been since Laurel felt like anyone needed her like this? She’d been pretty useless, but then Nyssa came to her, made her useful again, even if it was just for one night. Laurel caught crests of pleasure at Nyssa’s urging, gasping and twisting down against the sensation. 

Nyssa began speaking to Laurel, but she didn’t understand a word of Nyssa’s language. Instead, she tried to focus on the tone and on the way Nyssa was holding her. Was this really what it was like for Nyssa and Sara? Was Nyssa actually losing it? Laurel didn’t know. She didn’t care at the moment because she came hard at Nyssa’s hand, shocked the woman had finished her off so easily. There was something about the depth of intimacy that had unhinged Laurel. 

Laurel was put flat on her back after that, Nyssa coming in close to prop her hips up so Nyssa could get close. Two of the woman’s long fingers pushed inside of her without much warning, making Laurel cry out. “That’s it, my little bird. Sing for me.” Nyssa began moving her hand, fingers shifting inside Laurel in a way that made her feel incredibly full. It didn’t take Laurel long to begin singing, her moans and gasps echoing against the bare walls of Nyssa’s spartan room. Laurel grabbed at the headboard as Nyssa’s hand moved hard enough to make Laurel’s breasts jump with every push. 

“Nyssa…. please.” 

“Please what, my darling?” She leaned in to run the tip of her tongue over Laurel’s clit, making her cry out and nod. “Your wish is my command,” Nyssa encouraged before drifting kisses down over Laurel’s stomach all the way down to join her fingers at Laurel’s sex. Nyssa sucked and lapped at her already sensitive clit as her fingers curled inside. Laurel felt warm, like a heat was going to blow out of every limb any moment. “Let it happen, my darling.” Nyssa’s voice was silk on gravel and it cut through Laurel, relaxing her enough that she was able to cum. 

Laurel could barely make out Nyssa’s face in the darkness, but when she could, she could see that slightly lost look, but mostly just calm. It was the most calm she’d seen Nyssa’s eyes since the woman got here. It was lost, though, because Nyssa flattened herself out against the bed and began to lap at Laurel. It wasn’t that Laurel didn’t want to reciprocate, it was just that Nyssa hadn’t given her a chance. Plus, Laurel didn’t exactly think that asking for directions right now would be the greatest idea. Nyssa needed one last night with Sara, so it was hers to direct. 

Nyssa’s lips wrapped around Laurel’s clit and didn’t leave it until she’d claimed another orgasm. Laurel was in a place she’d never been before. Nyssa had her body humming, a sort of buzzing running through her limbs. Nyssa had every pore and cell wide awake and writhing for her. “Nyssa… Please… oh… too sensitive.” The woman immediately released her clit, but then went to her folds, licking and stroking each with her tongue as those long fingers started to move. 

Laurel felt something like a tug inside, like Nyssa had hooked something. “Oh!” Whne she did it again, when she started to use that to rock Laurel’s whole body, she started to really get loud. “Nyssa… “ Laurel reached down and stroked Nyssa’s face, through her hair. “God, Nyssa….” Nyssa’s pace just sped and her mouth came to Laurel’s thighs. In moments Laurel was on edge again. “How… not possible… never… not….” Laurel’s whole body shook as Nyssa worked her. It was like a continuous orgasm that she had no control over ripping through her bones. 

Nyssa was being far rougher with her than any other lover ever had, moving her, putting her where she was needed. Laurel had no problem with that. Besides that, the way her hand pounded against Laurel’s body was nowhere near reverent or tender. Nyssa was pulling from her body things Laurel didnt’ know she was capable of. Nyssa’s free hand came to push on Laurel’s stomach, down low at her pelvis. The heel of the woman’s hand came in and trapped Laurel between Nyssa’s hands. “Perfectly beautiful.” 

Laurel’s whole body moved like it had hit a live wire when Nyssa spoke, her climax coming hard and sudden. Nyssa didn’t stop, pushing Laurel’s whole body until Laurel felt something entirely new happen. Nyssa’s fingers kept moving, coaxing her to release in small jets of wetness when she came. Nyssa’s mouth came back to Laurel’s clit and pushed her hard, pushed Laurel until she was nothing but a twitching pile of muscle and bone. 

Nyssa laid with her for a little while before sliding out of bed and tucking Laurel in. In the state she was in, Laurel fell back asleep almost instantly. When she woke the next morning, all of Nyssa’s possessions were gone, but there was a note tucked under a cold cup of tea sitting on the table just next to her head. She knew Nyssa was gone and worried about opening the note. Eventually curiosity won out. 

On the white paper was one sentence. _Your kindness will not be forgotten, Laurel._

Nyssa was a woman of few words most of the time, and it appeared this was no exception. The only ray of light was the fact that Nyssa had used Laurel's name. The woman said she knew that the two sisters weren’t the same, but to see it in writing was a relief Laurel hadn’t known she was waiting for. If she saw Nyssa a dozen years from now or if she saw her tomorrow, she would be Laurel. She didn’t know when she’d see the Daughter of the Demon again, but when she did, Nyssa would see her as Laurel and maybe then they’d have a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the poem Last Kiss by Laura Castellanos del Valle
> 
> To avoid the thought   
> of never kissing you again,  
> I try to remember the goodbye  
> I didn’t recognize as farewell.  
> A rapid see-you-later glance   
> of lips. Motor idling.  
> I insist on another last  
> kiss, more tender. One unfamiliar  
> with hurry or acquainted with rush.
> 
> Your kisses caved my knees  
> and scaled my desires.  
> In elevators I prayed  
> for mechanical failures. In public  
> I wished us invisible  
> Pinned to the nearest wall  
> by your tongue I was mounted  
> butterfly preserved in flight.  
> Prized in your collection.
> 
> But these are all   
> set the scene, twist the plot,   
> kisses. Can I recollect  
> the final spectacle? Saturday   
> morning salad tossed with linens,   
> cups, newspapers, and Friday  
> Clothes. Which kiss prelude  
> to the sweet exhaustion of love  
> was the epilogue to my dreams?


End file.
